I miss being able to call for recipe clarification. Or for the recipe since I've misplaced it for the twentieth time.
I miss being able to call her to brag about stuff about my kids. She was always their most avid and enthusiastic fan.
I miss being able to complain about my kids. She didn't offer too much advice. She know she just needed to listen.
I miss the feeling of two parents anchoring my extending family, having two parents at Thanksgiving and birthday dinners.
I miss seeing her at dinner parties we put on. I know she got much joy from entertaining and I know she was proud that I could set a pretty table and not burn anything.
I miss that she will never see Sydney's smile with all her adult teeth in.
I miss she will never hear Jackson play clarinet.
I miss that she will not experience the personality blooming in Sydney: sassy, dramatic and entertaining.
I miss that she will not see Jackson as a middle schooler.
I miss that she won't see Sydney's new 'look' with her bangs grown out.
I miss that she will not see Jackson in his trademark fedora.
I miss that she can't sit down with both my kids and listen to them.
I miss that she was not here to see me turn 50.
I miss that I did not see her turn 80.